


The Epic Quest of Merlin and Gwaine

by Azile_Teacup



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunkenness, Gen, One Shot, Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:23:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azile_Teacup/pseuds/Azile_Teacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Gwaine have lost Arthur. Or has Arthur lost them? None of them really know what the hell's going on, but there's glue in Gwaine's hair, Merlin's not wearing his own clothes and somehow they have no idea where Arthur is. None of them remembers last night and so begins the epic quest of Merlin and Gwaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Epic Quest of Merlin and Gwaine

Arthur moans. He's not sure, but he thinks he might be dying. He pries open one eye (the other seems to be gunked shut) and tries to work out where he is. He feels the world tilt when he realises he is not in fact lying down but at an odd angle. He shuts his eye again. 

“Gwaine?”

Always a safe bet that Gwaine is near by when he wakes up feeling like this. No answer, though.

“Merlin?”

Another safe bet. It's often been said that where he goes Merlin follows. Arthur would laugh (but it hurts too much), if only the people who said that knew how often it's Merlin dragging them into these things. In fact, this is probably all Merlin's fault. Whatever this is. 

“Guinevere?”

Not likely to be here. Too sensible. Probably at Lance's, snuggling together and writing their essays in good time and not being wankers. 

“Anyone?”

Arthur's pretty sure he's going to have to open his eye again. He sighs, which leads to coughing which tastes like stale cigarettes, and pries open his eye again. This time he's expecting the weird angle and manages to look around a bit. He's in a room. That's pretty much all he knows. The curtains are shut and the bed is empty which begs the question why is he on the floor. 

His other eye slowly pops open, tearing his eyelashes out as they get stuck in whatever the gunk is. He looks down at himself. Clothes; good. Shoes.... no shoes. He holds his hands out in front of him. Or rather, he holds one hand out in front of him. The other he can't seem to... his arm's stuck. He tugs, but the only consequence is a clank. Little clank, but enough to make his head throb. He turns gingerly to take a look. 

***

Merlin wakes up and groans. Who gets this hungover these days? God, probably Gwaine's fault, making them act like eighteen year olds. Not that twenty two is that far removed, but it's far enough that they shouldn't wake up feeling like this any more. Remembering countless times he did wake up feeling like this he looks around to check where he is. Gwaine's room. Good. Gwaine's socked feet are by his head, so he deduces he's in Gwaine's bed.

The sound of his phone singing Justin Timberlake alerts him to the reason for his waking. Probably Arthur's fault, he seems to think Justin is hilarious when drunk. Merlin shuts his eyes, ready to ignore whoever the horrible person is, when a pillow hits him, probably thrown by Gwaine. He also realises Arthur isn't here with them and is probably calling from some gutter but it's more the pillow thing, really. 

“Yeah?”

Merlin clears his throat of second hand cigarettes and winces. 

-Merlin? Merlin. Thank God. -

It is Arthur. Sounding high pitched and panicked. Merlin groans and sits up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed in preparation for saving Arthur from whatever he's got himself into this time. 

“Yeah it's me. You all right?”

-No I am not all right! What the hell were we drinking? Also, why aren't you here?-

“I don't know where 'here' is so I don't know why I'm not there. Also, I have no memory of last night yet. Let's blame Gwaine, it's a safe bet. Are you hurt?”

-No. I don't think so. Except I have no eye lashes on my left eye.-

“Ah. Where do I need to come save you from?”

-I don't know!-

“Can't you find out? Look out the window or something.”

-I can't! Merlin, someone glued my eye shut. With glue! Which is why I have no eyelashes. They all came out when my eye opened.-

“but your eye _is_ open, so this stops you looking out the window... why?”

-It's more the being handcuffed to a radiator that stops me looking... also, I seem to have tattoed my nipple.-

Merlin blinks at the wall. 

“What?”

-Yes, okay? Yes! Fine! I woke up with my eye glued shut, handcuffed to a radiator and I have a tattoo! That's as far as I got. I'm not looking further. I don't want to know what else... just come get me?-

“Well, we still don't know where you are. Hang on.”

Merlin thumps Gwaine making him moan, but it wakes him up.

“Gwaine, do you remember anything about last night?”

“No. Go away.”

“Arthur's handcuffed to a radiator. Someone glued his eye shut. And he has a nipple tattoo.”

Gwaine sits up, hair every which way. He looks about as bewildered as Merlin feels. He stands and starts dressing. 

“We better start re-tracing our steps. We probably started at the Union, yeah?”

“Arthur, do you remember anything from yesterday? Anything at all?”

-Just that there was alcohol. And I think you were dancing under a table.-

“Under?”

-Yes, under.-

“Apparently I was dancing under a table, Gwaine.”

“Really? Oh! I remember that! That was at Jiggly's! Let's start there.”

“Arthur, we're going to find you okay? Just sit tight.”

-How long? My arm hurts.-

“No idea. I'll call you. Bye. So, let's go.”

“You need trouser's, Merlin.”

Merlin looks down at himself. He's wearing a skirt. He pulls on his jeans instead. 

“Where did that even come fomr?”

“No idea.”

***

“Gwen, good morning.”

Gwen kisses Lance's cheek and then grins, blushing, remembering last night. She hurries through to the back of Jiggly's and changes into her uniform. She takes a moment to compose herself and to do her hair before joining Lance behind the coffee bar. He smiles at her, all sweetness and adoration which makes her blush again. 

“Last night was amazing, Gwen.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm glad we decided to stay in. Percy says the guys were out of control.”

“Is he still here?”

“Yeah, he's just clearing up the back room. A party last night trashed it.”

“Not our guys?”

“No, you know they wouldn't.”

“Speak of the devil, good morning, Merlin! Gwaine!”

Lance laughs and Gwen can see why. They look like shit. Gwaine's hair has a life of it's own and Merlin is wearing what Gwen thinks must be someone else's jeans as they're falling off his hips and a pink strap top she's pretty sure belongs to Freya. 

“Mmph. Not good. Coffee. Please?”

Gwen laughs again, a little delighted. She always feels so smug when she misses one of those nights. Lance, being more sympathetic because he misses fewer, gets them both coffees as they sit at the bar. 

“Where's Arthur?”

“Dunno. We're looking. He's handcuffed to a radiator somewhere.”

“Handcuf- seriously?”

“Seriously. He has a nipple tat! It's amazing. Is Percy still here?”

“In the back.”

Merlin takes a gulp of hot coffee and gives Gwen puppy dog eyes, so she sends Lance to fetch Percy. Because Merlin is far too adorable for her to resist when she's in such a good mood. 

“Did you have a good time last night, at least?”

“Dunno. I don't remember. None of us do.”

“Ah.”

Gwen stifles her laughter as Percy comes out of the back room, grinning widely when he spots the two bedraggled men at the bar. He strides over and claps Gwaine on the back, making him groan.

“Not so loud, Percival.”

“Ha! Surely the great Gwaine is not hungover? Didn't you once boast-”

“I lied. I lied! Now be nice, please?”

“All right.”

“We're looking for Arthur. He's handcuffed to a radiator somewhere.”

“Seriously? No, wait, I believe it.”

“So, were we here last night?”

“Yes, you definitely were! Merlin was-”

“Dancing. I remember that. How long were we here for.”

“Maybe an hour? You were already drunk, even though it was only just nine. Arthur got you thrown out by propositioning the bouncer.”

Gwen laughs because that's just like Arthur when he's drunk. It was probably completely unintentional. His thoughts just fall out of his mouth when he's had too much. She's been on the receiving end of his 'truths' once too much to find it anything but funny.

***

Arthur rests his head carefully against the wall and shuts his eyes. He's tired and his head hurts and his nipple hurts and his arm hurts and he's never, ever going drinking with Merlin and Gwaine again. Ever. Not even if they promise him-

Arthur jerks upright, wincing and wishing he hadn't. A memory flits past and he tries to grasp it. Not even if they promise him...

_“If you buy us shots, I'll buy you a jiggly's gift card.”_

_“Why don't you spend the money on shots now instead?”_

_“Because right now I am broke, and I didn't say when I'd buy the card, did I?”_

_“Sneaky. But now I know your sneakiness.”_

_“Guys!”_

_Arthur and Gwaine look up to see Merlin balancing a tray of shots. Arthur groans. They're green and pink. He thinks he might throw up just looking at them._

_“You promised me we were going out for a pint, Gwaine.”_

_“We did, we had pints at the union. Now we're here and here come the shots, all...”_

_Merlin takes up the tune (the wedding march. Why does Gwaine think these things? Weird.)_

_“to make us all clots! Here come the sho-oo-ots, barely bigger than dots! Come on, Arthur.”_

_“Just these. No more, just these little dot ones.”_

_“We promise, just these shots.”_

_Arthur gives in. And once he's given in there's no going back, so he protests less and less with each new round and by the time Merlin's dancing under the table it's him roaring for more._

Arthur jerks back against the wall. They were at Jigglys. They were at Jigglys! Doing shots! Arthur grabs his phone and dials Merlin. 

***

“Yeah?... oh. We know, that's where we are... well I'm so sorry we're not... you don't either!...”

Gwaine listens to Merlin's one sided conversation and rests his head against Percy's lovely muscled chest. Maybe he should give in and be a grown up and date Percy. It's nice like this, though. Percy's big hand carding through his hair.

“I think there's something in your hair... oh my god! No wonder it's sticking out so much! Gwaine, there's glue in your hair.”

“Huh? Oh, would you look at that.”

Gwaine doesn't look. He's not too fussed. He shuts his eyes and the image of Merlin trying to dance while crouched under a table plasters itself behind his lids, making his snort. Then another picture forms.

_“Such a lovely bottom, Mr bouncer. I love these trousers on you.”_

_“Look, if you don't stop I'm kicking you out. Your friends as well.”_

_Gwaine hiccups and grins at the bouncer. Arthur's leaning on him so he has to stay upright, but he staggers a bit._

_“You'll lick me o-?”_

_“Right that's it!”_

_Arthur and Gwaine are pushed unceremoniously out onto the quad, Merlin stumbling out a few seconds later. Arthur looks put out, but Gwaine's not bothered. Uni bars are crap anyway._

_“Le's go to town, kay?”_

_“He_ said _he was licking mmm out if I di'n stop. He said it.”_

_“Kick, Arthur. Not lick. Kick.”_

_Merlin seems a bit soberererer then them, so Gwaine latches on._

_“Taxi!”_

_To all their surprises a taxi pulls up across the quad where the road runs and beeps it's horn, so they stumble over linked together to keep upright. Just as they arrive, though, so do another three people._

_“This is our taxi. We ordered it.”_

_“No, I shouted and it beeped. It's ours.”_

_“We rang for the taxi. It beeped to let us know it was here.”_

_“Ours!”_

_Gwaine raises his fists ready to fight for the taxi, but Arthur steps forward, head lolling a little and smiles at the other three._

_“Hullo. I'm Arthur. He's Gwaine and the skinny fella's Merlina. He's a girl. Can we share, like proper grown ups?”_

_“Fine. But we choose where to go.”_

_“Fair 'nough. We haven't a plan, so we'll follow your lead.”_

_“I'm Mordred, that's Daegal and this is... um...”_

_“Cedric, I'm Cedric.”_

_Gwaine is bored so he piles into the taxi, followed by the others._

“Merlin!”

“Ah! You startled me. Arthur's managed to re-glue his eye shut somehow. And his nipple hurts.”

“I remembered stuff! I did! We got into a taxi with some people. We should find those people, maybe one of them has our Arthur.”

Merlin nods seriously.

“I don't remember.”

“Mordred. One was called Mordred. And something about dogs, maybe?”

“Mordred? I know him. Or, well, I have a class with him. He lives in block C, off the quad here.”

“That would explain the taxi. Come on, Merlin! Mordred's ho!”

***

Mordred yawns and pads to the kitchen, smiling when he spots Daegal by the coffee pot, coffee already brewed and ready. Just waiting for Mordred's mug. 

“Coooffeee.”

"Morning, zombie.”

Daegal passes Mordred the mug and Mordred thinks he might just marry Daegal. Because he needs coffee. He doesn't have much of a hangover, it's not like they're freshers any more. He stops thinking and focusses on his coffee, the bitter taste, the wonderful restorative value as it sinks into him, waking him up nicely. He ignores the door (Daegal can get it) and goes to sit on the stool at the counter. 

“...I was there too, you know. And I am not a dog!”

Mordred scowls at the people who've interrupted (and seemingly called Daegal a dog). 

“Oh, it's you guys. What do you want, we don't have another taxi for you to steal.”

“Yes! We did that! I remember that.”

“I don't.”

“Aw, that's okay Merly Whirly.”

Mordred takes another sip of his coffee as scruff number one gets scruff number two in a octopus like hug, ruffling his hair and laughing at scruff number two's protests. Daegal comes and tucks himself under Mordred's arm. Mordred smiles because he's clever enough to tuck himself under the arm that isn't holding the coffee mug. 

“Good morning.”

Daegal looks up with a smile so Mordred kisses him. Because why not. It's nice and tastes of coffee and Daegal and last night and all things mornings ought to taste like. 

“Oi! We need your help, mates. You can do that later.”

“Be polite, Gwaine. But we do need your help.”

“With a taxi, I suppose? Or are you going to return what you stole?”

“What did we steal? We stole stuff? That doesn't sound like... okay, it does sound like us. What did we steal?”

“Oh my God. You honestly don't remember anything, do you?”

“No!”

“Not a thing!”

“Why should I tell you? We could just leave them in their misery, what do you think, Dee?”

“Let's.”

“But, see, we've lost the princess.”

“The princess?”

“He's handcuffed to a radiator somewhere. We have to find him.”

“Gwaine means Arthur. You met him last night. Blonde, aristocratic nose, bit of a prat?”

Daegal still glares, but Mordred thinks the sooner these guys get what they want the sooner they leave and he can get back to it being a nice, relaxing morning. 

“Okay, okay. Yes, I met your princess. He said he wanted to share a taxi, so we agreed....”

_Mordred isn't too happy about the sharing thing, but he supposes it's not the end of the world. He piles in after Daegal leaving the front seat to Cedric. Where did they pick up Cedric, anyway? And why was he still trailing after them? Mordred decides to ditch him with the drunken people._

_“So yooooou're Mooore dread, and he's your boyfriend?”_

_“Daegal. My name's Daegal.”_

_“Like a dog! Heel, Daegal!”_

_“Noooo. Gwaine, tha's mean. He's from whassit, anyway... wassit!”_

_“The lord of the rings. He is not my namesake.”_

_“Least it's not Smeagol.”_

_Mordred's sure the skinny one's trying to be nice, but it's still stupid. He squeezes Daegal's hand and Daegal smiles._

_“So, Mooooordred and not-Smeagol, where to?”_

_Mordred glares at the blonde prince-like one and gets a big grin in return. He rolls his eyes, but it's hard to be mad at the guy when he looks so happy._

_“We're going to the Blue Bar.”_

_“Oh. I don't like it there! Merlin, I don't wanna go there, make them go somewhere else!”_

_“This is their taxi, Arthur.”_

_“No. I won't go.”_

_“Merlin, I don't want to go either. Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”_

_“Merlin, Can we get out and walk? I feel sick. I want to get out.”_

_“Merlin!”_

_“Merlin!”_

_“God, shut up! Fine. Driver, could you pull over?”_

_The taxi pulls to the side of the road. Mordred heaves a sigh of relief as the shaggy one topples out, followed by the skinny one. The aristocratic one squints and doesn't move, then he snatches Mordred's beanie and falls out of the taxi, laughing wildly, picks himself up and runs away._

_“Hey!”_

_“Where to now?”_

_“My hat!”_

_“Look, I've had it with the lot of you. Do you want a ride or not?”_

_Mordred decides he'll have to let the hat go_

“Oops.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. And you didn't see us again?”

“Nope. Last I saw was you two chasing the other one.”

“Damn.”

***

Merlin walks beside Gwaine, feeling desolate. The glue in Gwaine's hair is starting to lose it's stick and Merlin's beginning to feel cold in his pink strappy. It barely covers his stomach. Also, the pair of trouser he grabbed seem to be Arthur's.

“We need to find him, Gwaine. It's kind of funny, but also... he's locked to a random radiator. Maybe he was kidnapped or something, in his drunken state and we didn't even notice.”

“If that was so he'd hardly be tattooed and glued and he wouldn't have his phone.”

“Oh yeah. Oh, yeah! Tattoos! There's only one place in town that opens late, so unless we really screwed up and let a randomer tat Arthur, we must have been there!”

“Merlin.”

“Yes?”

“You are a genius! Let's go!”

Merlin hesitates.

“We can't drive like this.”

“Bus?”

“Ugh.”

“Um... Taxi!”

Merlin (to his shame) peers around, just in case, but no car magically appears. He glares at Gwaine.

“It worked last night!”

“Yeah, it worked so _well_.”

“Not my fault Arthur has sticky fingers when he drinks.”

“Fine. Let's-”

Merlin stops, a bit amazed, because a taxi pulls up in front of them. They've been wandering aimlessly in the direction of town so it's not completely out of the question, but it is a bit miraculous.

“Do you need directions, mate?”

“Merlin, stop jinxing it.”

“I saw you call for a taxi. I just came out for a bum fare, some freshers obviously deciding more partying would be over the top. Where to, lads?”

“Town.”

“Um... what's it called, the late night tattoo place?”

“I know the one. You sure?”

“Yup!”

***

Gwaine cautiously inches round the door, ready for anything, but then Merlin shoves him in and pushes into the shop behind him, ignoring Gwaine's tripping and clinging to Merlin for balance. 

“Hello? Anyone here?”

Obviously Merlin's lost patience. Probably secretly worrying about the princess. Gwaine's secretly worrying himself and he decides their next step will be to call Arthur. Just for reassurance. Merlin starts poking about, examining the designs and photographs with a professional eye. Gwaine rolls his eyes. 

“Come off it, Merlin. Not your thing. You're more into painting on paper then on your skin.”

“Yeah yeah. I'd make a great tattoo-ist. Besides, how do you know I don't have a tattoo? You haven't seen every inch, mate.”

That's... intriguing. And hot. There isn't much more than an inch or two that he hasn't seen. He undresses Merlin with his eyes, pausing at the bits he hasn't seen and considering.

“Do you?”

“That would be telling.”

“So tell!”

Before Merlin can tell (not that Gwaine imagines that was Merlin's next step, not judging by the smirk. Merlin's by far the most evil out of the three of them, though people often mistake him for the nice one) by a shadow detaching itself from the back wall and becoming a man. A big, looming, muscled man with a quiet, intent look that promises pain. Lots of pain.

“What can I do to help?”

“We're-” Gwaine pauses to clear the squeak out of his voice and Merlin loses patience again.

“Were we here last night? With a blonde guy?”

“I don't remember faces.”

“He got a tattoo on his nipple.”

“I know the guy. Demanded I learn maths before he let me do it. 1.618033988.”

“Uh, that sounds like Arthur.”

“Yup. He was here. Why, you lost him?”

There's a predatory gleam in the man's eyes at that, it makes Gwaine want to back away and leave very quickly. Merlin seems to have no such compunction.

“Not as such. Do you know where we went next?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Arthur talks a lot when he's drunk.”

“Ah. In that case, perhaps.”

_Helios traces the design the drunk idiot penned. He knows enough about maths to know it's surprisingly accurate, but still. He sighs as the guy twitches and giggles again._

_“You need to stop moving.”_

_“It tickles!”_

_“It will do a lot more than tickle if you twitch too much.”_

_The man just laughs an obnoxious, braying laugh and his little friends titter along, knocking things over. Helios wishes he'd denied their custom. He'll admit that the idea intrigued him, though. He stands up and forcefully holds the blond down with one arm and continues, ignoring the twitching and jabbering now._

_“...and then we're going to go to the Black Beard.”_

_That gets Helios attention. The Black Beard? These guys? He laughs and starts inking, using his strength to keep the guy down when it starts to sting. He knows the moment it does, knows the moment the sting becomes pain, the moment the nerves start misfiring and the man's whole body starts to ache and hurt. He smiles and keeps inking, careful to keep to the design. Not a dot or scratch or hair beyond it, the man had said._

_The man starts to still, the pain obviously working through him. Helios holds on and meets his eyes a moment, grinning at the flash of fear, then the flash of defiance. The man doesn't-_

“Enough! We get it, you enjoy pain. Sadist. If you hurt him, we'll be back. Don't even think we might not be.”

Gwaine suddenly wishes he could back away from Merlin. This is the part of Merlin that surprises people. Happy, paint covered Merlin with his floaty, in his own world dopiness that can suddenly snap to surprising and frightening power. Merlin stomps out of the shop, slamming the door on Gwaine. Gwaine hurries to follow, waving to Helios. 

***

Gilli wipes down another glass and absently sends a glare towards the two men starting to get too into their argument. Everyone wonders how he controls his patrons, but it's mostly through hard earned respect from his regulars and a general no-nonsense attitude. No secret. 

“Oi, Cenred. That's enough. Tab's up.”

“I want a pint.”

“Tab's up, mate. No more.”

“Don't call me 'mate'.”

“Then pay up.”

Cenred pays. As always. He's a wannabe, all talk and no walk. He swagger-staggers out of the bar knocking into someone and cursing as he leaves. The people he walked into come in and peer around. Gilli sighs and rolls his eyes.

“You guys are back. What now?”

“We're back? We're back! We were here, Merlin!”

“We're looking for our friend. Re-tracing our steps. We were here last night?”

“Yes. Or rather this morning.”

Gilli looks at them, but they're not kidding. They have no clue. They definitely look like they have no clue. Gilli can feel the bar shifting around him, unhappy with the two strangers. He shifts so he can see Tindr and Nollar, the two trouble makers. 

“Do you know what happened to our mate?”

Gilli notices that they're carefully not using names. Or the skinny one is. The other, it seems, is more interested in undressing Morgause with his eyes. Good luck.

“Not a clue.”

“Seriously? Not a single one? Because Helios said the same and then... well, here we are.”

“I have no idea. You came in, held up the bar and then left again. I think the other guy was muttering about Karaoke, but you, with the glued hair, you were yelling about a strip club and you, with the strappy, you were on about home and a movie. So I don't know.”

The guys slump. They look dejected. Gilli sighs, and gives in. He's not used to dealing with people who are so... soft. 

“You went left. There's a karaoke bar down there.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

Gilli nods and turns away, listening for the click of the door before getting on with the business of cleaning the glasses.

“Last pint, Kil.”

***

Arthur sighs and stretches his legs. He's bored. He's been here ages with no word from the others. He stretches his trapped arm as much as he can. There's an odd noise and for a second he thinks it's his arm and panics (foggily. He's still kind of woozy, so it's foggy panic). He twists to see his arm, realises he isn't caught any more and holds up his cuffed hand in wonder. Which is when he realises the mechanism's broken and he was never actually trapped. He looks around furtively, wondering if Merlin ever needs to know. 

Now he's free, though, he can finally get to his feet and look out the window. He pulls himself up by the radiator and staggers over, pulling the curtain cautiously away, blinking at the sudden brightness. He closes his eyes and opens them one at a time (pulling out more eyelashes in the glue gunk in the process) before he can actually see anything. When he can see, he looks for any discerning features.

A street. Generic houses. He frowns, because the one across the road looks frustratingly like... strangely, almost as if... No. No way. It can't be. Arthur limps through the hall to the font door (his legs hurt, damn it. Actually he hurts all over) and tries it. It doesn't budge. He tugs and tugs, more and more frantic, before realising it's a Yale lock. He undoes it and pops out into the street, bare feet cold on the tarmac.

***

Merlin and Gwaine head home, dejected. They had hit a dead end at the Karaoke bar. They'd been there, but no one remembers them beyond Merlin ordering drinks. None of them had sung and no one noticed them leaving. Gwaine has his arm around Merlin but Merlin can't help worrying. If they can't find Arthur, it might not just be a funny drunken night any more. He's worried.

“I think we need to call someone, Gwaine.”

“Well, he must be at someone's house. That someone will get home at some point and will probably let him go.”

“Gwaine... he must be scared.”

“I doubt it. He's hungover, remember.”

Arthur hung over doesn't really do much worrying. It's pretty much like drunk Arthur, but with more moaning and grumbling and pain. Merlin sighs and nods, still feeling bad about it all. It was his idea to go drinking, his idea to do shots.

They turn the corner into their street of generic houses (however much Merlin spruces up their house with coloured paint and stick on butterflies it's still generic) and stop. Because there, staggering away from Freya's house in jeans and nothing else, handcuffs hanging off one hand is Arthur. 

“Arthur!”

“Merlin!”

Arthur beams at them, shambling towards them. He scratches his belly and yawns before tugging them both into a stinky, sweaty hug. 

“Here you are. Did you trace me?”

“No! What the hell?”

“Dunno. It was Freya's. Would you have guessed?”

“No. How did you end up there? And handcuffs?”

“I think we should never drink again, mates. Aw, you look lovely Merlin.”

Arthur tugs at the pink top and kisses Merlin sloppily on the forehead before turning and heading towards their front door. The same front door Merlin and Gwaine rolled out of this morning, looking for Arthur. They look at each other, gaping a bit, but then they shrug and trudge after Arthur. Who knows how Arthur gets himself into these things. Merlin certainly has no idea. They follow Arthur to the house, Merlin elbowing him out of the way when they realise Arthur has no keys, and they all troop into the living room to collapse on the sofa. Or Gwaine goes for his chair, but Merlin and Arthur flop onto the sofa. Merlin shuts his eyes a moment, then picks up the remote to flick on the TV. They all slump into hangover mode. 

Suddenly Merlin jerks upright, making Arthur groan and Gwaine grunt in irritation. But Merlin has remembered! He turns to Arthur, realises he's shirtless and no words are needed and proceeds to examine his chest. He snorts when he realises what the tat is. There's a square (probably measured out and exact. Even drunk Arthur's a perfectionist) of numbers, starting with the chain Helios came out with earlier. They hadn't even thought to question it at the time, Merlin realises. Superimposed over the numbers is a series of lines and a spiral holding it all together. Of course. 

"The golden mean. You're a right idiot, you know that?"

"It hurts."

Merlin feels no sympathy. The skin is red and irritated looking, but it's Arthur's own fault. It doesn't look infected. Merlin decides he'll get a giant plaster from the cupboard when he gets up to fetch them nibbles. Or he could get Gwaine to do it. He grins, remember something else.

"Hey, Gwaine? If you get one of the fabric plasters big enough to cover Arthur's nipples, and some crisps, and some toasted cheese sandwiches and some juice and basically all the stuff we need, I'll show you the inches you haven't seen."

Gwaine's eyes light up and he bounces to his feet, hurrying away. Merlin stifles his amusement. He pats Arthur's chest, avoiding the sore nipple, and uses it as leverage so he can kiss Arthur's pouting lips. Arthur grumbles a bit but then kisses back, relaxing under Merlin's expert attention. Merlin knows every bit of Arthur and can do this without even a whit of trouble, and it's quite enjoyable. He finds himself relaxing as well, only pulling back when the stappy rubs Arthur's nipple making him hiss. Merlin sits back and grins at Arthur, who scowls back but slowly the grin breaks through and he beams at Merlin, laughing happily and scrubbing a hand through Merlin's hair.

"Look at this! Pink, and my jeans. I guess I must have yours. I thought they were a bit tight. Now, seeing as they're yours and I'm not just getting a beer gut..."

Arthur un-pops the button at the top of his jeans and leans back with a sighs of satisfaction. Merlin yawns and snuggles into his side. They settle in to watch the children's show Merlin ended on and there's no sound except Gwaine in the kitchen for a while. Then Arthur lets out a delighted laugh. Merlin looks up, confused.

"What's Gwaine gonna do when he realises you really don't have a tattoo on your dick?"

Merlin smiles serenely. That is just what he needs to round off this perfect hangover. Arthur curled on the sofa with him, something stupid on TV, food and juice and Gwaine's outraged, disappointed face. Perfect. The handcuff still locked to Arthur's wrists clinks gently and Merlin thinks, again, 'perfect'.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know... this just popped into my head and demanded to be written, so here it is for your enjoyment. 
> 
> Arthur's [tattoo](http://25.media.tumblr.com/733978225703a8c280670359eb9ce883/tumblr_meu4uhPeVk1qetdj3o1_1280.png), only on his nipple, obv.


End file.
